The Odd Couple
by 08joanna
Summary: House and Wilson discuss their living arrangements, post "Wilson".
1. Chapter 1

Having left work early due to not having a current case, House was lounging on the couch in Wilson's living room, watching TV, when Wilson entered.

"Hey House," Wilson said.

House just nodded.

"Are you up for a gourmet meal tonight? I feel like cooking," Wilson said.

"You're cheery. I can only assume none of your patients kicked off today, and you didn't have to give anyone dire biopsy news," House replied.

"Actually, I did have one take a turn for the worse today."

"And yet, still cheery."

"Yeah. That's because I heard from Bonnie." Wilson grinned. "We have a closing date on the condo."

"When?"

"Mid January."

"That's pretty quick."

"Yeah, I can't wait to get in there."

"And you were able to get out of the lease on this place?"

"The landlord's always been very understanding. He gave me no problem with taking over the lease after Amber died, and now he's fine with letting me break it. Just have to pay up for January."

"It's amazing what people will do when a guy's girlfriend dies."

Wilson glared at House for a moment, and then walked into the kitchen to start on dinner.

"So," House said, "when are you thinking of moving?"

"Right after the closing. And you mean us, right?"

"We never really talked about that."

"I didn't think we needed to talk about it. It's assumed. You're welcome to stay with me as long as you want."

"I thought you were getting kind of fed up with the whole arrangement. The mess, the guitars, the noise."

"You know I was just upset about Tucker when I said that. I want you to stay. That's one of the main reasons I wanted the place. We need more space, and it's on the first floor, and there are two bedrooms and two bathrooms and..."

"Whoa, you sound like this is a long-term thing! I do wanna go back home eventually, you know."

"Sure. Whenever you want. But there's no rush. There's even room at the new place for the piano. And did you know the second bathroom has a huge Jacuzzi tub? Thought you'd like that."

"You don't have to sell me on it, Wilson. I've seen the place. It's great."

"So, what's the problem?"

"I don't know. I could just use a little privacy once in a while."

"Do you feel like you're ready to go home? What does Nolan say about it?"

"Actually, Nolan thinks I am ready."

"What did he say?"

"He said he thinks I've made enough progress to decide for myself where I want to live."

"But, what -- you have doubts about whether you're ready?"

House looked around the room, anywhere but at Wilson.

"House, what is it? Are you afraid of what might happen if you live alone?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know if you're afraid, or you don't know what might happen?"

"Look, it's just – the problem is it would be easier, alone there, to slip up."

"What -- you think you'll go back to the Vicodin or overdo the drinking again if you live alone?"

"There are still times I have thoughts like that here, but you're such a hawk I know I can't act on them."

"And without living with me, you think you'll act on them? I doubt it -- you've come a long way, House."

"Not nearly as far as you think."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you have no idea what it's really like, Wilson."

"So tell me."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"I just can't. You've never been an addict trying to give up his drug of choice."

Wilson looked stunned at that, and his brow furrowed with worry.

"It's still hard? I thought you were pretty much past that."

House laughed ironically. "I'll never be past it. It'll always be in the back of my mind, especially when the pain flares up. I can handle it when I'm busy at work or deeply engrossed in something, but, yeah, it's still hard. That's the thing, Wilson. I don't know when I'll stop feeling this way, if ever, but I don't wanna make you my babysitter forever. And I want to be able to leave. I don't wanna feel like you're stuck with me."

"I'm not stuck with you. You're my friend, House, and I chose this."

"Then you're more of a masochist than I thought."

"Come on, it hasn't been so bad, has it? I mean, for all I know, my habits might annoy you as much as yours have sometimes annoyed me."

"You mean like your compulsive grooming habits, requiring loud electronic appliances at ungodly hours of the morning, or your obsession with putting every utensil back in exactly the same spot in the same kitchen drawer every time?"

"See, I'm not perfect."

"I never said you were perfect, Felix."

"Well, Oscar, I can put up with your issues if you can put up with mine."

House stared at Wilson with an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face.

"You may not be perfect, but you're a damn good friend, Wilson. I know I never said it before, but thanks for taking me in and letting me stay here so long. I don't know what I would've done otherwise."

"You're welcome. And I'm not going anywhere, House. Remember that."

"I guess I didn't fully appreciate you before, but I think that whole liver transplant situation sort of got to me."

"It's a bitch, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"Seeing someone you care about lying in a hospital bed. I've been on the other side of that equation way too often."

"Sorry for that."

"One thing I've gotta say, though. You've always had a knack for making me laugh, but please, try not to be so funny if I'm ever recovering from surgery again. Laughing hurts like hell right after a surgeon has cut you open."

"Just wanted you to have the full surgery experience."

"Ha-ha. So, it's settled, right? We'll stick this out together a while longer?"

House shrugged. "Sure. Can't pass up that Jacuzzi."

"Should I tell the movers there's a piano involved? I'm sure they'd charge extra for that."

"Well, now – that's quite a commitment. Let me sleep on it."

"Whatever you say, buddy. No pressure. Now, let's get this dinner going." Wilson pulled open a kitchen drawer. "Where's the big whisk? House, did you move my big whisk again?"

House rolled his eyes and went back to watching the tube.


	2. Chapter 2

It was finally moving day, a bright and sunny but very cold and blustery January morning. Wilson's penchant for organization was fully on display, in the form of an intricately labeled and numbered row of boxes of varying sizes, with specifics as to which room each belonged in and exactly what each contained. House glanced at one of the larger boxes and laughed at the label: "Kitchen #6 – pots, pans, and assorted small appliances (but see Kitchen #7 for large mixer)."

"Did you expect the movers to actually put this right next to the cupboard you intend to use for pots and pans? This is crazy – all they'll do is drop everything in the middle of the living room floor and let us deal with it," House said.

"It's not for them, per se, but more for me. I don't wanna be guessing about which box to open first, and I need to put things away in a certain order," Wilson replied.

"Whatever. I'm not letting them touch any of my guitars, though. We're taking those in the car."

"Fine. But it's pretty icy out there, so let me know if you need help carrying anything."

"Thanks." House looked around at the now bare, two-toned blue walls of Amber's place (he'd always think of it as Amber's place) and felt a little nostalgic. He never thought he'd be sorry to leave this particular apartment behind, but it had been home for several months now, and he'd gotten used to it.

"What are you thinking?" Wilson asked.

House shook his head and looked at Wilson. "Nothing important." Suddenly he felt the need to get out of there quickly, and thought of a good excuse. "Did you tell Murphy we were moving?"

"Why would I tell Murphy? You're the one who's gotten sort of chummy with him."

"I should probably go down and tell him, then." House turned to leave, but Wilson had another question.

"House, you sure you don't wanna change your mind about the piano? We could still ask the movers to make a trip to your old apartment."

House had decided not to move the piano, but hadn't really given Wilson a reason, and Wilson still couldn't seem to grasp why. The truth was that House felt moving the piano would be giving up, in a way -- acknowledging that he needed to live with Wilson for the foreseeable future. Leaving it in his old apartment was kind of an incentive to keep getting better. It was a prize he could give himself when he finally felt ready to live alone again. And he desperately wanted to feel like he'd be ready to do that soon, even if the new apartment would be very comfortable and convenient.

"No, one trip from here should do it," House said.

"You sure?" Wilson couldn't seem to drop this subject.

House was getting aggravated now. "Yes, I'm sure! What the hell is it with you and the piano?"

"I just think it might help you to have it there. You know, another diversion, and one you're damn good at, by the way."

"I can go over there and play it if I really want to."

"But then I won't hear it."

"You miss hearing me play? Every time I pick up a guitar, you get that 'not again' look on your face."

"The piano's different," Wilson said. "It's like it's a part of you. I still can't believe you don't want it."

Wilson wouldn't let this go, so House figured he might as well fess up, at least to a point.

"It's not that I don't want it, Wilson. I want it, a lot."

"Then why not move it?"

"I need to leave it where it is, just so I can envision myself getting back there someday."

Wilson didn't know how to respond to that. A moment later there was a loud knock on the door, as the movers had arrived. House took this as a chance to exit, since he really didn't want to continue this conversation any longer, and did actually intend on going down to say goodbye to Murphy. Wilson stared at him as he walked out.

"Hey, Mack, we're ready to start loading," one of the movers said to Wilson. "Whaddya got for us?"

Wilson's attention went to the movers, and he said, "All the boxes in here, and then there are more in the bedroom and hallway. Furniture should go in first, though."

"We know how to do a move, fella."

Wilson sighed, and hoped they'd at least try to keep his boxes in order. He grabbed two of House's guitar cases and headed down to the street.

He passed House and Murphy standing and talking at Murphy's door. House had never actually explained what he'd done to "be nice" to Murphy, but, whatever it was, it had obviously worked. In all the time Wilson had lived in this building (over a year and half now), he'd never seen Murphy smile, and here he was, smiling at House, of all people. It was a mystery, but one Wilson felt hopeful about – a sign that, even if he didn't always want everyone to see it, House really was trying to change. Wilson nodded at both of them and stepped outside into the frigid air. He breathed deeply and then walked over to put the guitars in the car. This new apartment would be a new start, for him as well as House, and leaving this building was like dropping a weight from his shoulders. He hoped Amber was watching, and would understand.


End file.
